The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 110: The One That Vanished

Chapter 110: Chapter 110: The One That Vanished

*****

The night air was thick with tension, the moon a pale slit overhead, casting silver onto the stone path that cut through Lunar Crest Academy. A blur darted past trees, dorms, and deserted corners of the campus, nothing more than a whisper of wind and motion.

Magnus Thorn.

The Director’s face was grim, his eyes flashing crimson with growing frustration. He had been moving at full Lycan speed, retracing steps, chasing trails, searching. But there was no trail, not anymore.

Kieran’s scent was gone.

Masked. Suppressed. Hidden.

The boy had done it deliberately.

Thorn skidded to a halt on the west side of the academy, nostrils flaring as he tried once more to pick up even the faintest thread of the Lycan Prince’s trail. Nothing. He cursed under his breath, spinning in a new direction when....

Thud...

He collided sharply with another figure turning the corner.

Instinct kicked in. Thorn’s hands shot out, gripping the figure by the waist to steady them before they could fall.

"Astrid," he muttered.

She looked up at him, caught in his arms, her silver hair glinting like moonfire in the dim light. Her sharp brows drew together in a scowl.

"Watch where you’re going," she said coolly, even as she remained perfectly still in his grasp.

The world seemed to pause for a moment.

Her waist beneath his palms. The scent of her skin, familiar, haunting. Her heartbeat, calm and unflinching, beat steadily against his chest.

Astrid suddenly shoved him back.

Thorn let go without resistance, straightening his coat and clearing his throat.

"You’re acting ferocious," she said, brushing herself off, refusing to meet his eyes. "Running around like a stormhound."

"I don’t have time for your mouth right now, Astrid." Thorn’s voice was gruff, strained with urgency. "He’s missing."

Astrid blinked. "Who?"

"Kieran," Magnus Thorn said grimly, eyes scanning the shadows behind Astrid as if the prince might emerge from the mist at any moment.

Astrid scoffed, folding her arms. "He’s not missing. He filed an official leave from the academy over a week ago. Said he needed isolation to undergo that sacred Lycan training."

"I know," Magnus nodded. "I am aware of the leave. But he came back, and now he is completely gone again. Not in the dorms. Not on the grounds. His scent, completely gone."

Astrid’s brow furrowed, tension coiling in her body.

"Maybe he’s still in training...."

"No." Thorn cut her off. "Listen to me. A few hours ago, the feral boy, Felix, and his noble friend Adrian came to me. They claimed they’d found a hideout on the outskirts of the academy. One they believe belongs to the Crimson Hunt."

Astrid froze.

The name hit her like a blow. Her red eyes widened.

"You’re joking," she breathed. "The Crimson Hunt? Here?"

"I saw it with my own eyes," Thorn said. "They took me there. It was empty, but the walls were graffitied, scrawled in what looked like blood. A message: The war is almost here. And their sigil, wolf’s head with elongated fangs. Clear as day."

Astrid took a step back, visibly rattled. "That faction was destroyed over a decade ago. You led the battle against them and I was part of your army, it was that battle that drifted us....." Astrid cleared her throat

"Why would they resurface now, and in the middle of Lunar Crest academy of all places?"

"That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out," Thorn said, voice low and tight. "But that’s not the worst part."

Astrid looked up sharply.

"On our way back from the hideout, Kieran appeared. Right in the middle of the road. He looked....off. His eyes were dead red, but not like usual, not battle-red. It was darker. Wilder. Before I could even speak to him, he collapsed."

Astrid’s breath hitched.

"We rushed him to the infirmary," Thorn went on. "The doctors tried everything. His body’s fine, no wounds, no injuries. But he wouldn’t wake. No one could reach him. They said it was something in his mind. I stepped out to send word to the King.... and by the time I returned, he was gone. His bed empty. Window open. Vanished."

Astrid stood still for a long moment, her mind clearly racing.

Then Thorn said it out loud: "I think he lost the battle."

Astrid’s gaze snapped to his.

"The Total Lycan Ascension," Thorn clarified. "I think his human side failed to merge. I think his wolf won. And now the prince himself is locked somewhere inside his own damn head, while his wolf runs rampant. He masked his scent so we can’t find him."

Astrid didn’t speak.

She didn’t need to.

The storm gathering behind her eyes said enough.

"You should’ve told me," she snapped at last. "From the moment Felix brought you that information. The second you heard Crimson Hunt, you should’ve come to me."

"I’m telling you now," Thorn shot back, jaw clenching. "You know damn well I handle things on my own. I didn’t think it will this serious."

"Well, it has!" Astrid hissed. "The Crimson Hunt doesn’t just appear. They infiltrate. Strategically. Silently andd you know that!. If they’re already inside this academy..." she gestured to the quiet, unsuspecting buildings behind them "then we’ve already lost the first battle."

Thorn was silent. For once, he had nothing to say.

Astrid exhaled sharply, steeling herself. "We need to find him. If Kieran’s wolf is in control, he’s not just dangerous to himself, he’s dangerous to everyone."

Thorn nodded.

"No more secrets," Astrid said, voice cold as steel. "We do this together."

They locked eyes.

They’ve been allies, enemies.

And now, reluctant partners in a war neither of them fully understood yet.

"Let’s move," Thorn said.

And together, they vanished into the night.

The night pressed in like a storm cloud as they searched the Academy grounds in tense silence. Magnus moved with urgency, his strides long and his eyes sweeping every corridor. Astrid, however, moved with sharp calculation, her mind racing through every possibility, every hiding place, every shadow.

Then it struck her.

She stopped mid-step, her breath catching.

"The feral dorm," she said aloud.

Magnus turned, brow furrowed. "What?"

Astrid spun on her heel. "Lorraine. She’s there. I locked her away for solitary training there, I’ve been keeping her isolated to sharpen her strength. If Kieran’s lost his mind, if his wolf is in control, and if he’s still tied to her.... he might’ve gone to her."

Magnus blinked. "Wait, you’ve been hiding the feral girl in the dorm this whole time?"

Astrid didn’t look at him. "This is not the time, Thorn."

Magnus gritted his teeth but followed her. She broke into a run, her footsteps nearly silent over the cobblestones, and Magnus matched her pace.

As they reached the edge of the abandoned sector where the feral dorm loomed in crumbling silence, Astrid’s heart dropped.

The heavy chains that had once sealed the dorm shut now lay broken on the floor, twisted and splintered like melted wire.

"He’s here," Astrid breathed.

Magnus’s face darkened, but neither of them wasted time with words. They burst into the building, their footsteps echoing off the dusty walls. A cold tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

The scent hit them first, blood, sweat, and something primal.

They stormed up the staircase, past the wreckage of overturned furniture, until they reached the farthest room.

The door creaked open.

Kieran lay sprawled on the floorboards, completely unconscious—his chest rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. Lorraine knelt beside him, shaking him gently, her hands trembling, her expression a mess of confusion and worry.

She was shirtless, bare skin, a tangle of dark hair falling over her shoulders.

Astrid rushed to her, pulled off her own jacket, and wrapped it around Lorraine’s trembling form. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you."

Lorraine looked up at her, stunned, breathless, her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Magnus entered next, eyes immediately falling on Kieran’s limp body. His face twisted with fury and worry, but he said nothing. He crouched, carefully gathered the Lycan prince into his arms, and then looked to Astrid.

"Go," she ordered. "Straight to the hospital. I’ll be right behind you."

Magnus disappeared with a blur of supernatural speed, carrying Kieran like he weighed nothing.

Astrid turned back to Lorraine, who was still curled on the ground, visibly shaking. She knelt beside her.

"What happened here?" she asked, voice surprisingly gentle.

Lorraine’s eyes darted around the room, she looked more confused than Astrid had ever seen her.

"I.... I don’t know," Lorraine whispered. "He came in.... but it wasn’t him. Not really. His voice, his eyes, they weren’t his. I tried to reach him, but he, he wasn’t there." She blinked, tears building. "And then he said some weird stuff... he just collapsed."

Astrid exhaled slowly.

"Stay here," Astrid said softly,m

And then she stood, and vanished into the night.

Lorraine’s POV

Astrid vanished in a blur of wind and motion, gone before I could even rise to my feet.

But I had to follow.

I pulled her jacket tighter around my body and stumbled from the room, still drained and confused about what had just happened. My feet hit the hallway floor and kept moving. Down the creaking stairs, through the common room and open gates.

The air outside hit me like a slap, cold, sharp, alive.

I hadn’t stepped out of the feral dorm in over a week. It felt like crossing through dimensions.

But I didn’t stop.

The hospital. I had to reach the hospital. I had to know if Kieran was okay, if he was himself again.

I was halfway through the deserted courtyard, breath puffing in white clouds, when they appeared.

Seven of them.

A tight, mocking circle of elite students stepped into my path like wolves who’d cornered a wounded rabbit. Every inch of them reeking of power, wealth, and bloodlust

"Well, well," one of them sneered. "Look who finally decided to crawl out of the dirt."

"Thought she’d died like the rest of her kind," another muttered with a cruel grin.

"A rat will always return to the stench," a third added, circling me.

My hands curled into fists as my heart thundered in my chest. My claws began to slide out, slow but steady.

"I don’t know where you’ve been hiding," one of them said, "but the bounty’s still on your filthy head. It’s hunting hour, feral. And this time.... we’ll make sure you don’t walk away."

I swallowed hard, stepping back slowly. Seven of them. Seven.

I couldn’t take them all down, not cleanly. But I’d take some of them with me. If I was going down tonight, I’d go down swinging. I would not die on my knees.

I lowered myself into a stance, claws out, ready to fight.

Then....

A voice cut through the night like a blade.

"If you want to kill her," it boomed, cold and clear, "you’ll have to go through me first."

The elites froze. My breath caught.

We all turned toward the voice.

And it was... him?

Alistair Ashthorne??